Nightingale
by rgrsstvn
Summary: It wasn't that Santana Lopez hated kids - she just really, really didn't want them in her own life. So when Brittany Pierce moves in across the hall, a single mother with her 6 month old son in tow, Santana's less than pleased. When a confrontation reveals Santana's impressive ability to keep Brittany's son calm, the two grow close, and soon sleepless nights turn into so much more.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

* * *

Santana Lopez really didn't like kids.

It wasn't that she despised their existence or anything. They were cute enough from afar, but she wanted nothing to do with them when it came to her own life. It was why she had moved away from her hometown of Lima, OH, away from her high school friends that were settling down and popping out babies left and right. In New York City, the world was young, and no one was looking at Santana like they were waiting for her to pop a belly and set up a nursery.

So when the first cries interrupted her study session, the sound carrying from across the hall, under her door and into the quiet sanctuary of her apartment, the scowl that spread across her face could have been considered deadly. She had midterms coming up, and the last thing she needed was some kid interrupting her late night read.

 _Must be the new neighbor_ , she thought to herself as she stood from her desk, deciding to use the interruption as an excuse to make a cup of coffee and take a break. She'd seen a young woman moving boxes in and out only a few days before, but there hadn't been any sign of a baby. Santana had certainly checked – when someone new moves in across the hall in a building where the space was so cramped you might as well be living in the same apartment, scoping out your new neighbor was vital for safety.

Stretching her arms above her head, she walked across her small space, digging around in the cabinets for a clean mug. Her movements were almost instinctual, the familiarity coming from countless repetitions of the same motions as she fixed her coffee. At only 20 years old, Santana had long ago grown accustomed to late nights fueled solely by caffeine and a drive to pass her classes with flying colors. The first in her family to even attend college, Santana had taken on a double major and a minor, determined as always to prove herself as capable of handling anything, even if it meant biting off far more than she should be able to chew.

Taking a sip of the steaming liquid, she closed her eyes, glancing towards the stack of textbooks on her desk with a look of distaste. She loved being in school, really she did, but there was only so many times she could study the functions of the human brain before she thought her own might explode.

 _Speaking of exploding brains_ , she thought to herself as the cries from across the hall only increased in volume, a soft sigh leaving Santana's lips when she realized she wasn't going to get any studying done.

 _Just as well_ , she supposed as she checked the time on her phone, brow furrowing when she realized it was already past 1 in the morning. She had class at 8, and there was no way she could afford to be late again. Her professor, known around the campus as one of the harshest graders and stuffiest lecturers, had a nasty policy of locking the door the second the clock hit 8:01, and Santana would be damned if she'd drag herself all the way into Manhattan just to get locked out in a hallway.

Gathering her things from her desk and shoving them haphazardly into her bag, she stripped down to just a t-shirt and underwear, doing a quick sweep of her apartment to make sure the windows and doors were locked before heading towards her bedroom. Her father had been insistent that he "safety proof" her apartment before she moved in, terrified at the idea of his only daughter living alone in such a dangerous city. Santana had reluctantly agreed, knowing that her father's mind would be at ease, even if it meant the extra annoyance of covering his safety precautions every night before she went to sleep.

With one last glance around the space, Santana closed the door to her bedroom, feet shuffling across the floor until she flopped ungracefully onto the bed. She could still hear the cries from across the hall, though the added layer of wall certainly quieted the sound somewhat, and with a disgruntled sigh, yanked her pillow over her head, doing her best to muffle out the sound.

She really, _really_ didn't like kids.

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 **A/N:** Hey all! This is something that's been in my head for quite some time now, so I decided to go ahead and share it with all of you. Any feedback you have is greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

* * *

"You're a bitch, Lopez."

Santana chuckled low in her throat as she made her way up the steps to her apartment, her phone balanced precariously between her ear and her shoulder. After a long Friday of classes, there was nothing she wanted more than to put on some relaxing music, soak in her tub for a few hours, and then collapse in her bed to sleep like the dead until halfway through tomorrow.

"What can I say, Fabray? It's a gift. Bestowed upon me by whatever gods are up there, and perfected with years and years of practice hating people." Rummaging in her bag for her keys, Santana groaned, making a mental note to herself to actually attempt to clean out her purse, realizing with a quick glance that there was far more dumped into it than she ever used in a month, much less on a daily basis.

"You could at least come home for the actual holiday. Doesn't even have to be for a week." She could hear the plea in Quinn's tone, the desperation to not be faced with the town they'd both escaped on their own, but Santana wasn't budging.

"Not a chance," Santana replied, letting out a sound of triumph when her hand closed around the jagged metal of her apartment key, pulling the keychain from her bag and grabbing her phone with her hand once more. "I already told the 'rents they were on their own for Thanksgiving. Can't go back on my word, can I?"

She heard Quinn sigh through the phone, a pleased smile spreading across her lips when she realized her best friend had given up arguing with her. She knew Quinn was hoping for a buffer when it came to her own parents, having already made plans to return to Lima for the entirety of her break from Yale, but Santana had promised herself freshman year that she would only return home for summer break, Christmas too if she was really feeling up to it.

It wasn't that she didn't love her parents - she did, really. They were loving, and kind, and supported her need to be on her own. Her father had been the one to insist she look at colleges outside of Lima, and had offered to pay for everything, a gift Santana was relieved to have not needed to take. They'd always had her well being at heart, and she had to admit that a small part of her felt guilty for avoiding the holidays back in her hometown. But Lima was... _Lima_ , and Santana had no interest in inserting herself back into the world she'd fought so hard to get out of.

"Fine," she heard Quinn's defeated voice filter through the phone, "but you so owe me when I drag my ass up to the city to see you."

A chuckle vibrated in Santana's throat as she turned on the midway point to make her way up the final set of stairs that would lead to her apartment. "You got it, Fabray. I'll take you out and get you all kinds of wasted." They hadn't been out drinking in ages, Santana's fake ID collecting dust at the bottom of her desk drawer, and she had to admit that the thought was definitely appealing.

She was just about to start telling Quinn about all the trouble they were going to get in when they finally made room in their busy schedules for a girl's weekend, but the words died on her throat when she glanced up towards the landing of her apartment, catching sight of the blonde that lived in the apartment across from her own. She'd only seen her once when the girl had moved in over a month ago, but she'd been in a hurry and the girl had been turned away dealing with boxes, so she had no real idea what her neighbor even looked like.

"Hey listen," she said into the phone, not taking her eyes from the blonde with her back to her, "I've gotta go, Q. Say hi to Russell and Judy for me."

Without another word, she was ending the call, sliding her phone into her purse as she climbed the remaining steps until she was level with her neighbor. The baby that she'd been kept awake by was nowhere to be seen, the other girl murmuring quietly as Santana moved to walk towards her own door. She heard the words taper off, Santana assuming the other girl had just become aware of her presence, and she couldn't help the way she peeked over her shoulder, curious to see more.

Her heart stuttered in her chest when she finally caught sight of her, the sole glimpse she'd gotten before today hardly justice for the beauty that was standing before Santana. She was tall, a few inches taller than Santana's own height, with gorgeous blonde hair that fell loose around her shoulders and piercing blue eyes that were examining Santana curiously. Santana's own eyes scanned up and down the woman standing in front of her, clad in simple jeans and a white t-shirt, her feet bare and toes painted a bright pink color.

"Uh, hi," the other girl said as Santana's eyes jumped buck up to her face, pocketing a phone that Santana assumed she'd been talking into just moments before and stepping closer, holding her hand out for Santana to take. "I'm Brittany."

Santana was frozen for only a moment before she found her wits, lifting her own hand to slide into Brittany's, a small, if unsure, smile spreading across her lips. _Brittany._ The name definitely suited her, and Santana found herself rolling it around in her head as she continued to examine the woman standing in front of her. "Santana," she replied, shifting her bag on her shoulder as the smile on her face grew to a genuine one, her other hand running through her hair. "I'm sorry I've yet to introduce myself. It's been a crazy semester and we always just seemed to pass each other by."

Brittany laughed softly at that, nodding as she let their hands fall apart, her own slipping into the pocket of the worn jeans she wore. "I can understand that. I've been really busy with Ryan anyways. 6 month olds aren't exactly the most self-sufficient people around. I'm pretty much always dealing with him, but I finally got him down for a nap so I figured I would slip out here and try to make a few phone calls."

 _Ryan._ So that was the name of her biggest nuisance. "Ryan. Is that your little brother?" She hadn't seen anyone else coming in and out of the apartment, but one glance at Brittany told her there was almost _no way_ this woman could be a mother. She was ridiculously young, and while that wouldn't have surprised her based solely on her experiences in Lima, she was also obviously in amazing shape, no sign of ever carrying a child on her body. Not that Santana was checking her out, or anything.

"Oh, no," Brittany replied with a laugh, Santana's eyes tracking the way she brushed a single strand of hair behind her ear. "Ryan's my son. It's just him and I here."

Surprise must have shown on Santana's face, because Brittany continued with her explanation, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "I had him when I was young," she said with a shrug, glancing back towards the apartment door with a smile on her face, one that was obviously full of love and adoration. "And I'm a dancer, so it wasn't too hard to get the pre-baby body back."

Santana's eyebrows arched into her hairline as Brittany spoke, the candid way in which the other girl seemed to read exactly what Santana was thinking and had no qualms about sharing her personal details throwing her for a loop. The dancing part certainly explained the body.

"Well, listen, it was nice to meet you Brittany." Shifting her keys to her other hand, she held out her right, taking Brittany's once more and shaking it, trying her hardest to ignore how warm and soft the other felt in her own. "But I've really gotta get to studying. I'll see you around?"

"Sure," Brittany replied brightly, flashing Santana a bright smile before turning to head back into her apartment. "See you around, Santana."

Letting out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, Santana nodded, watching as Brittany's door closed behind her before turning back to her own. She fumbled with the key in the lock for a few moments before successfully unlocking the door, making her way inside and doing her best to keep from glancing back towards the door that now separated her from the beautiful stranger.

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 **A/N:** Feedback appreciated, as always! Now that we're in to the actual story, my goal is to update about once a week, and chapters will definitely get longer as we get into things.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Santana let out a grunt as she flipped the book in front of her shut, a low sigh falling from her lips when she finally decided to give up on studying for the night. A quick glance at her phone told her she'd been at it for well over three hours, having sat right at her desk the minute she'd gotten home, but she knew without a doubt that it wasn't one of her most productive study sessions.

Her mind was still on the woman across the hall, the bubbly blonde with a bright smile and a _kid_ that kept Santana awake and distracted at the worst possible times. _Brittany_ , she mentally corrected herself, standing and padding across the apartment to drop ungracefully down onto the couch. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so distracted by her own thoughts, her unexplained interest in her neighbor not serving as fuel for her late night study session.

It was just as well, she supposed as she let her arm fall to hang off the side of the couch. It was Friday night, the weekend, and she deserved the break. She deserved a few hours of relaxation, of vegging out instead of keeping her head buried in her work. There was always tomorrow to start on the mountain of reading she'd been assigned.

Reaching for the remote, she flicked on the TV, flipping through the channels until she found something mindless enough to leave on in the background while she dozed. The thought of getting up and walking to her bed seemed less than unappealing, her back aching from sitting at her desk for so long. The couch was comfortable enough for now, she rationalized, already feeling her eyes start to droop as she TV screen in front of her played some ridiculous cartoon from her younger years.

Her plans went completely to shit when she heard the first cries.

"Oh, for fucks sake," she growled as she grabbed a pillow, lifting her head to glare at the front door to her apartment as though it would actually have some effect. "Are you kidding me?"

It wasn't like Brittany could actually hear her, but Santana was pissed, and grumbling to herself had always been a somewhat decent stress reliever, even if it only worked on a temporary basis. It didn't seem to have any effect this time, though, her body jerking upwards as she tossed the pillow aside, turning the TV up louder in an attempt to drown out the noise.

Despite the fact that it was a regular occurrence, the interruptions usually weren't _that_ bad. They were over relatively quickly, and Santana was often able to go back to whatever it was she'd been doing. It quickly became apparent that wasn't going to be the case this time, though, Santana letting out another drawn out sigh as she stood from the couch, mentally berating herself for never investing in those earplugs she'd kept saying she needed to buy.

Her brow furrowed when the cries only seemed to grow louder, eyes shifting towards the door as confusion etched it's way across her face. It sounded as though Brittany was much closer than her apartment, the confusion morphing into sheer irritation as she realized just why the noise was so much louder. Letting out a huff, she stomped towards the door, pausing just before she opened it. Rationality had never really been her strong suit, especially when she was irritated, but she knew that stepping out into the landing with guns blazing would only serve to add to the noise, the heaving in her chest easing as she took a few calm, steadying breaths.

Once she was sure she was calm enough to avoid going full Lima Heights, she opened the front door, the confusion returning to her face when she took in the scene in front of her. Brittany, clearly frazzled and at her wit's end, was walking up and down the stairs, a screaming baby in her arms. Santana couldn't hear anything besides Ryan, but she could see the way Brittany's lips were moving where they were pressed against the side of his head, obviously cooing and doing their best to soothe the beyond frustrated child.

Watching as Brittany moved down the stairs, Santana leaned against her door frame, her arms crossing against her chest. When she reached the mid point of the stairs, she turned, foot lifting to start the journey back up to their shared floor.

The look of horror that crossed her face almost made Santana feel bad about coming out here at all. _Almost._

"Oh my god, I am so so sorry," Brittany said as she walked back up the stairs, mouth opening and closing awkwardly as wild eyes took in Santana's presence. "I just- he really likes the up and down, on the stairs. It usually works and I-"

Brittany broke off as she ran her free hand through her hair, Santana eyeing the beginning of tears that were forming in her eyes, obviously from frustration and lack of sleep.

"I'm trying to make him a bottle," she said quietly when Santana didn't speak, voice dripping with embarrassment at obviously disturbing her neighbor. "Normally I can get him to calm down long enough for me to heat the water to warm it, but he bumped his head and he's hysterical and I-"

"Brittany, relax," Santana cut her off, holding up her hand and pushing off the door frame. Sure, she was annoyed, and she'd originally come out here to give her new neighbor a piece of her mind about being so disruptive, but it was obvious that Brittany was already having a hard enough time as it was, and for once, Santana actually felt guilty about adding to that.

Her mouth opened to continue, to say something more that was decidedly un-Santana like, but before she had a chance, a whistling came from the open door to Brittany's apartment.

"Oh crap," the woman standing in front of her said, the sound obviously only adding to her frustration. "I forgot, I left the water on and now it's gonna be too hot and-" She shifted Ryan in her grip, a low grunt slipping from her lips as she glanced down at her still hysterical son. "I just need to get that really quick and probably cool it down because the water's not supposed to be boiling. Could you- do you mind?" She nodded towards the baby in her arms, Santana's eyes going wide when she realized what Brittany was asking.

Santana wasn't really a kid type of person, and her experience in holding and soothing infants was basically non-existent. But the pleading blue eyes that looked at her, holding steady as they waited for a response, dissipated whatever protests were on the tip of her tongue, Santana awkwardly holding out her hands as Brittany handed Ryan over.

"I'll be quick," the other woman said while flashing Santana a grateful smile, her hand running soothingly over Ryan's head before she was darting into the open apartment.

Once they were alone, Santana glanced down at the infant in her arms, a grimace spreading across her face when she saw the snot that was running from his nose. She could feel her head pulsing under the pain of a headache that was growing steadily worse by the minute, her arms shifting awkwardly as she tried to adjust the still crying baby in her arms.

"Alright, kid," she muttered under her breath, taking a few steps towards the stairs. "You and me obviously have some differences, but I'm gonna need you to shut the hell up now." Her voice was low and quiet as she started moving up and down the steps, hoping Brittany's trick to get him to calm down would work. "You're really freakin' loud and it's not cool at all, and I've got a headache the size of Texas, so how 'bout we cool it a bit?"

Her words seemed to do little to ease him, though she noticed the volume decrease slightly when she held him tighter, still awkward and slightly anxious about holding a baby and walking up and down stairs at the same time. She seemed to be doing a decent enough job, though, her feet moving automatically up and down the top half of the stairs as she tried to rock him in her arms. His cries had yet to cease, and Santana felt a pang of sympathy for Brittany, starting to understand why she looked so frazzled and worn out when Santana had first seen her.

"You really just don't quit, do you?" she asked with an edge of annoyance, her hand patting gently against his back as she tried to wrack her brain for ideas on how to calm him. She'd always made a point to check out whenever her mother or her aunts started talking about babies, but as she pursed her lips, one thing in particular that her mother had told her months and months ago came to mind.

 _"You were always such a fussy baby, Santanita,_ " her mother had said with a teasing grin, running her hand through Santana's long black hair. " _Your father and I were surprised you didn't do more with your music, because once upon a time, that was the only thing that would make you happy._ "

A quick glance towards the open door of her apartment told Santana that Brittany had yet to finish whatever it was she was doing, her footsteps halting when she'd reached the landing between their apartments so she could shift the baby in her arms, her hand falling protectively to rest against his back.

"You better like this, kid," she mumbled under her breath, before humming the first tune that came to mind. Her eyes fell shut as she swayed back and forth on the spot, the soft humming giving way to singing as the words fell easily from her lips.

Within seconds, the volume of Ryan's cries were easing, her head shifting to the side to look as inquisitive blue eyes watched her, the tears still pooling there and falling down his cheeks, but not anywhere near as rapidly as they had just moment's before. Her grip on him tightened, body held close to her chest as it vibrated under her words, quiet but steady as she sang.

He'd tapered off into quiet whimpers by the time she was done, eyes that she hadn't realized had fallen shut darting open when a soft cough caught her attention.

"That was..." Brittany started with a shake of her head, leaning against her own door frame with a bottle in her hand and a smile on her lips. "That was beautiful, Santana."

The sudden presence of an audience reminded Santana of where she was, and what she was doing, her awkwardness and uncertainty coming back as she looked down at the quietly whimpering infant in her arms.

"Uh yeah, it was nothing," she said with a shrug, stepping towards Brittany and holding out Ryan for her to take. "Um, here. I've gotta.." She gestured back towards her own door with her free hand, the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding escaping her lips when a confused Brittany finally took Ryan back. "Goodnight, Brittany."

Without another word, she was whirling on her feet, heading straight into her apartment and closing the door behind her. She could hear Brittany start to speak, but she made no effort to stop and listen, shaking her head in an attempt to clear it.

Whatever that was, she thought to herself as she headed straight to bed, not even bothering to strip the clothes from her body, it needed to never happen again.

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 **A/N:** Apologies for such a long time between updates. As always, your thoughts are appreciated.


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